


Umbrella

by amuk



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: F/M, Fear, Friendship, Gen, Immortality, Implied Relationships, Introspection, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s raining when she picks him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Umbrella

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: 14. What a beautiful word, "umbrella." (Michael Chitwood)

It’s raining when she picks him. He’s standing at the edge of the curb, looking all for the world like a drowned rat. His hair is darker, almost a dirty blonde, and his cigarette hangs limply out of his mouth.

 

He raises his hand in greeting. If she looks hard enough, the darkness can’t hide the tears on his shirt, the holes in his jacket. Blood pools at his feet, mixing in with the water, and she knows this is another one of those days.

 

_Another fight?_

 

She doesn’t really have to ask that. The signs are there, as usual—the upturned street sign, the knocked over walls, the dirt and sweat caked on his skin. 

 

“Two,” he corrects, shrugging his shoulders when she inspects him. “Nothing serious.”

 

Nothing ever is with him—broken bones and torn ligaments heal quickly. They have to, otherwise his survival rate would be lower. She worries anyways—one of those holes looked suspiciously like a bullet hole and even his strength can’t do anything if there is a bullet in his flesh.

 

As it is, he’s right this time and she gets back onto the motorcycle. A small grimace—and oh, it should hurt, considering there is a nasty tear on his right shoulder. It runs down his chest, opening an old wound.

 

It’s been a while since he’s been wounded. Longer than she can count. For a time, he seemed almost immortal.

 

Now, she’s reminded of his mortality, of all of theirs. She’ll lose them all one day, from age or wounds or the unknown.

 

She tries not to think too hard in that direction, just pays attention as he shifts his weight and settles down behind her. His arms are still fine; he wraps them lightly around her this time. It’s not surprising to see her shadow gloves are still on his hands, still enduring the wear and tear of his daily activities. 

 

It’s starting to rain harder now, a downpour coming. Before they leave, she makes a broad umbrella, carefully to hang more of it over him. He doesn’t comment on it, merely leans in closer, and they hit the streets.

 

Shinra’s probably not home right now, so she takes the long route back. The rain falls around them like tear drops and she wonders who’s crying.


End file.
